Ghost
by Jabberwocky Kid
Summary: A girl encounters none other than the Scarecrow. Watch the 3 lonely hours they spend together. Ghost fic. No romance, supposed to be sad or scary. M for language. One-Shot


At first he came in looking for shelter. He was funny looking, he was dressed in a suit, but he had a ragged burlap mask on. I could barely stifle a giggle when I first saw him. He reminded me of a _Scarecrow_. He was so calm, and he had a soothing voice, like a father's. I could tell by the way he talked to himself, as if there were two. I wondered why he was here so late. It must have been 10:00 pm.

I had followed him throughout the abandoned building. I knew I wasn't allowed to be seen, so I hid carefully behind pillars. I became curious as to what was in his briefcase, but he had it too close to him for me to get to it. Well, you probably would be curious too, I mean, if a man comes into your home wearing a burlap mask, wearing a suit, and talking to himself, wouldn't you want to strike a conversation with him? Cause I sure would and I do.

He finally settled down at a spot nestled between two pillars. He put his blazer down first; I didn't blame him. It was dusty and a little dirty. He laid down onto it and pulled the sack off. I smiled. He reminded me so much of a good _father_...I wish I could go with him, but I then remembered. _They_ didn't want me to leave, to touch, to be seen. They told me if I was to try and run off, I would die. I didn't know why they wanted to keep me here, they just made it clear I couldn't leave.

The agony of debating whether or not to go or stay was unbearable. He looked so fatherly and caring. Then a thought popped in my head. He didn't have a ring on his finger, he didn't have any clue to indicate he was a father, and if he did have a wife or child, why wasn't he with them? He must have been so lonely, so very lonely. As was I.

I peeked over one of the pillars he was leaning against and sighed. Big mistake. He heard me and I bolted, weaving back and forth. His footsteps echoed loudly. I dreaded looking back. That feeling of care I thought I saw come from him quickly vanished and was replaced with something predatory. Fear overwhelmed me and I simply kept running and running. His footsteps stopped. I stopped, too, so he couldn't pinpoint where I was.

What had that man become? He didn't look calm, he looked...I couldn't place it. There was a _ghost_ of a smile on his face. I backed up when I realized I could see him in plain view. Did that mean he could see me? I squeaked and continued to run. He started, too. Pillars, blank pieces of plastic and paper littered the area. I would slip once or twice, but always make it back up in time. I then saw a wall of crates. Safety.

I climbed one crate after another as fast as I could, while still maintaining grace; I couldn't get my dress dirty. They wouldn't be too thrilled about that. He stopped, so I seized movement. Being on top of most of the crates gave me an impressive view. I could see him. He would slowly turn his head to look in every direction. He seemed to walk away. I breathed a sigh of relief. I sat down and let a tear roll down my face. There went my only shot for communicating with someone. But he was bad. I could definitely NOT talk to bad.

He came back, with his blazer on and suitcase in hand. He pulled out a syringe. I widened my eyes. He took out a small glass bottle from his briefcase and plucked the oversized needle inside. Bubbles and serum filled the tube. I put my hand to my mouth. More tears shed, but this was from fear and anxiety. He couldn't find me, they weren't here to protect me today. He carefully placed the bottle back into the case and flicked the tube of the syringe.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." he chanted. It scent shivers down my spine. I could barely breathe. I prayed, please, just leave. I just wanted him to leave, and never come back. He scared me. But he looked so fatherly. It took me a moment to realize he started to talk to himself again. I leaned down closer to take a look and to hear better. Was this man sick? I think he's the one who needed whatever was in the syringe.

"This is ridiculous, Johnny...You're seeing things-paranoid! Cut it out and get some sleep, I didn't see or hear anything, and I'm tired! I'm all for some screams of terror from an unsuspecting little girl, but there is no one to hear them from!"

"I know what I heard and saw. She breathed, I chased. Besides; where there's a child, there has to be a mother or father around somewhere. And you have a point; who would live in a place like this? It's disgusting. And why would a child no older than 9 be up past 10?" "...This place... is the most _haunted_ place...in Gotham, Johnny-boy! No put that god damn syringe away and lets get some sleep!"

"Scarecrow, shut the hell up right now, I am getting a bit tired of you nagging at me. I saw a girl here, and she is either going to come out, or face the dark by herself. We don't even have enough time to sleep. Jervis will be here to take us to our hideout soon." he finished. But wait, apparently, he wasn't done.

"You don't want to face the dark and the monsters in it, do you? There are bad people who want to hurt you in the dark. C'mon out, little girl...I won't hurt you. Little girl...sounds so impolite and formal. Could you go ahead and tell me your name?" He asked. I thought about it. I wasn't supposed to talk to them, and he was very frightening. He wouldn't be able to find me if I just told him, and they said the only rule I actually had to obey was touching.

"Jane." I whispered. Much to my relief; the name echoed from every corner, generalizing the area of my location. He spun around to and fro every direction. His eyes looked so wild, but dark and mischievous. I backed up on the crates until my back hit the wall. He did not see me, and I intended to keep it that way. Besides, they would be here soon and protect me from him. He would have to leave with this 'Jervis' fellow. He then spoke.

"Jane? Jane, is that your name? Jane. That's a nice name, Jane." he said, smirking. I had a feeling he was now mocking me.

"My name is Jonathan Cane. You can trust me; I'm a doctor. Do you want me to put this syringe away? Does it frighten you? You know, you can call me Jon, Jonathan, Dr. Crane, Scarecrow, anything is fine, Jane. You know, I gave you my last name, what's yours?" He asked. Oh, he must have knew me! Every one knew me. They knew me and my father, we rule Gotham underground.

"Hehehe, my name is Jane Elzie, doctor. Crane, Crane, Crane. Jane Crane! Jane Crane! Romeot Crane...Jonathan Elzie? My daddy's name is Romeot. Catch me if you can before you leave. Can I call you daddy? Mine isn't here. You look so fatherly." I cut myself off before I could say anymore. My dad wasn't here and I told the man with the syringe that? Was I mad! He did put the needle away, though. He looked a little angry.

"Scarecrow, a moment of peace, it's all I ask. One fucking moment!" he growled. I lifted my eyebrows. This man was mad. Very insane.

"It was me, okay, I made the noises please go back to the front gates, it is so humiliating to see you act this way. Look, listen...Yeah, Maddy Hattie is here, Johnny, pack your bags and lets go. You can gossip about it to your little friend later, but we are leaving right fucking now!" he yelled. I gasped at his language. He sighed and picked up his suit case. He seemed to begin to leave. No, no! Please don't go, please, it's so lonely!

"Please..." I whispered. He ignored it, as if it were a gust of wind. No! I began to cry again. He was so real, so alive, I could see him, I could almost hear his heart beat...his blood flow. I could feel his madness, I could see his sliver of humanity. I could smell his cologne! He was a man of existence, an existence I wanted to live with. We wouldn't have existed together, we would have lived together! He was just going to throw me away, throw me; Jane Elzie, a little girl...

He was reaching the exit, and I slowly; unknowingly, followed him. Tears were streaking my face. Through the pillars again. Between without being seen. He just waked, his hair was so messy. His glasses were somewhat crooked. He had beautiful blue eyes. Not him, no, he couldn't go. I could touch his cold existence. We could exist together, love, like a father and daughter should. I couldn't let him go. Not like this. I ran to him, knelt down and begged.

"Please, no, don't leave me, take me with y-" It was all I was able to get out when I hugged his legs. Pain. Overwhelming pain, it surrounded me until I was no more.

CRANE'S P.O.V

Dust was all that was left of her. I was recounting the events that had happened for...I checked my watch. 3 hours. It seemed like 30 minutes at the most. She had turned into dust. Funny; Scarecrow was screwing with my head again. And he was currently dominant. But, he wasn't happy about what happened, neither was I. He reached into the pocket and found a cellular phone he had stolen from the heist. He dialed 911. This was going to be fun; oh so fun.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello? Yes, I would like to report a dead body at the Montmorency House on 58th. Good luck finding it." I chuckled and hung up the phone. I then switched the SIM cards. But my attention drew to a bit of humanity. How the hell was this possible? **Uuh, Johnny-kins? This is the most haunted house in ALL OF FUCKING GOTHAM! Could you actually believe it was a ghost? Or maybe a figment of your fan-fucking-tastic imagination? And you called the police! get your ass in your friend's car and get the hell out of here!**

I did so. He smiled at me, but knew that the privilege to talk had not been given yet. On the road, we crossed police calls, whom I had called to the scene. I smiled. Jervis noticed it and began to let out a long, low string of quotes. I turned on the radio. What played made my stomach churn.

"An anonymous tip traced back to a phone stolen from Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane was sent to Gotham City Police Department today just moments ago. Report of a body found in the Montmorency House was in fact recovered. The body was not intact, the only remains were all but most of the bones in the feet; most of which had turned into _dust_. The body was of 10 year old Jane Elzie, daughter of the 1920s mob leader Romeot Elzie, one of the most feared of his time. In 1926 the father and daughter were murdered by the opposing Montmorency family; rival drug lords. Right after WWII the body of Romeot Elzie was found, but the daughter appeared to be long gone. The body was recovered in a dark coffin inside one of the pillars of said house. Forensics say she was still stabbed to death with a hatchet, others say it was a shot to the lung. For more on this case, tune into Gotham Report at 6:00."

I turned the radio off. Jervis stared at me, pulling into the hideouts driveway. I could barely breathe. _She was real._


End file.
